A/N: Updateee! This is the first of the two endings I'm planning to write, and this one happens to be the sadder of the two. Angst!
Enjoy.
Chapter Seven: Anguish
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-+- "Passion and shame torment him, and rage is mingled with his grief." -+-
Virgil
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For minutes, Lelouch had fallen speechless. Despite the utter horror in the spectacle of murder, he could not avert his violet stare; no, he continued to fixate at the bloodied brunette motionless alongside him, the several wounds of a blade that had dared to gore his perfect flesh, the pooling, scarlet liquid staining the unkempt mattress, the bed sheets, soaking the fabric and dyeing it a rich, dark, sickening color. It was awful. This… it was a nightmare. Unexpected, undesirable, unwanted and never even foreseen – a moment so feared by both of them. Lelouch could not fathom the unspeakable horror.
Why? He asked himself this over again.
Why did it have to happen?
They were so close…
And for a moment, Lelouch hated his brother. For that moment, he wanted to lash out at his brother and clutch him by the shoulders until he induced pain, to scream at him with such fervent words of his abhorrence and distress, the utter detestation and unbearable ache that gnawed at his insides. Oh, he wanted to sob his heart out, but he would not allow the tears to flow from his eyes. He couldn't. He had to remain impassive. He had to be - as much as it pained him - glad. If Rolo suspected any hint of sorrow in his expression…No, he didn't even want to consider the consequences.
Lelouch lowered his eyelids for a moment and swallowed away the urge to cry, the hand at his side curling into a fist. He could feel his brother's eyes on him, and so he met a similar violet stare, forcing all emotions of misery from his handsome face. A small smile even formed on his lips, as he bid his brother a subtle nod of gratitude.
"…Rolo," he murmured. "Thank you."
What a lie.
Such a filthy lie.
He wanted to sob, but he forced the smile to remain.
The returning smile from his brother was hesitant, but it nevertheless appeared. Rolo stepped closer to his brother's bedside with a hand outstretched to touch the man's shoulder, with a gracious lean forward to press his delicate lips to the man's mouth. Lelouch failed to muster enough willpower to return the affectionate gesture, although he maintained eye contact with his brother's warming stare; though, disappointed to feel no kiss in return, Rolo's smile vanished. He tilted his head a little and frowned. There was question in his adorable visage. Nonetheless, the sight made Lelouch want to look away.
Rolo watched him. "Lelouch…Why was he doing that to you?" He paused, and then added warily, "I-It was terrible behavior on his part, wasn't it? He was trying to hurt or something, tr-trying to get something out of you, wasn't he?" His words quaked from his lips as he sought to delicately prod into Lelouch's memories, to obtain the closure he desired – words he wanted to hear.
And his brother would tell him such a tale.
Lelouch blinked, his stare flicking aside. His head made a small nod. "Yes. That's what it was," he lied, though his voice masked the falsehood. "I wouldn't reveal to him some classified information crucial to all of this warfare we seem to be caught in, classified data concerning Zero…" His voice trailed, and he gave a reassuring smile; oh, how he hated smiling now. It felt disgusting. He forced away tears as he told him, "Thank goodness for your rescue, Rolo. I'm not sure I would have been able to sustain."
His brother nodded. "Yes…You're welcome, Ni-san. It is my duty, to protect you." He embraced his neck, pulling himself close despite how his brother had been stripped naked. He closed his eyes as he tucked his head against the warmth of his brother's chest, and by his ear, he whispered, "I love you."
Absentminded, such words became echoed, though Lelouch's mind was not focused on his brother's affection; still, as they had been for moments on end, his eyes fixated on the brunette's lifeless form lying beside them - that emerald stare that once glimmered, varnished with such beauty, now fixed wide and frozen, clouded with death; those agape lips that he had once so passionately kissed, and how glorious they had felt against his own, so soft and succulent, moist, tender; that mane of chestnut hair, rendered tousled as Suzaku had fallen motionless onto the mattress, though he looked so beautiful…
Suzaku…
Why?
The sight soon made Lelouch nauseous, and he had no choice, but to look elsewhere, to spare a glance at his brother as he cuddled against his chest. Lelouch moved his arms around him and propped his chin atop Rolo's light-brown mane, his eyes falling shut as the nightmare refused to let him be, as the thoughts bombarded him and, inwardly, he felt emotional turmoil rouse. It felt terrible, and it gnawed at his heart until the urge to clutch his chest irked him and he had to suppress a moan of his woe. Inside, inwardly, he was distraught. His heart had sunk, and crumpled at the bottom of his stomach. He felt as though he were to soon lose the battle against threatening tears, against arising sobs that wanted to, so desperately, break from his throat. He choked them away again, nonetheless, his blurring violet stare falling over the man he loved, now dead.
I loved you.
That's right; he loved him. He loved him so, so much, and he always had for as long as he could remember. Suzaku. He was gone now, and forever would be. That was the horror of it all. Oh, why? This time, he couldn't promise the brunette that he would return, that he would be back within an hour or two to finish their lovemaking; no, this time, fate had left them no choice but to end the affair. It had sealed their romance, and swallowed the key – the end.
Bitter closure.
Shutting his eyes, he bit away a curse.
Why, why, why…
Rolo looked up at him with a worried stare. "Lelouch," he whispered. "We should return home. You don't look so well…"
Lelouch nodded at once, perhaps too quickly, and faked a noise of his supposed illness. "Y-Yes. I don't want to stay here anymore, Rolo. I need rest." He let go of his brother. "I'll meet you outside. Let me dress."
His brother nodded. "…A-Ah. Okay."
He kept his head bowed as Rolo departed.
And, at the moment the door shut, tears broke from his eyes.
He sobbed.
Memories of the hour returned to him, of how the brunette had locked the door so warily and ensured its security not once, but twice; damnit, had he somehow known, had he been able to tell him to fasten each and every lock on that door, not just those two. Had he been able to tell him that all Hell would break loose because of his damned brother, had he just known that a nightmare would ensue - a horrible, horrible nightmare…Oh, had he known.
"Su-Suzaku…"
Lelouch buried his face in his hands as a small noise broke from him, as his tears continued to trounce and he felt himself begin to shake amid his sorrow. He let the tears rush as he sobbed quietly. He let them stream his cheeks and become smothered in his palms. Aloud, he cursed over and over again in a quaking voice, lifting his violet stare to the ceiling with a moan of distress, turning his eyes aside to the brunette beside him. Suzaku – so lifeless, so frozen in time…
"…Suzaku," he cried softly.
Lelouch took one of his hands in his, that cold, lifeless palm amid his warm clasp, his own clutch pulsing with life; oh, if only he could somehow convey some of his life into his love, but life was not a mere substance. No, it wasn't.
He choked softly, and bent forward to press the warmth of his lips against the brunette's cold mouth, his second hand lifting to stroke through those chestnut tresses, his palm pressing against that place on his love's chest where a heart should thump strongly, but where lifelessness had taken over. He touched his face and his hair again, and he stroked along the cold nape of his neck, his fingers quaking atop his skin as they pushed beneath his shirt and caressed his stomach. He touched everywhere, crying as he felt him. It was frightening, wrenching, how his emerald eyes had clouded. A comatose state of being. So dead.
And as he looked into those frozen gems, he only sobbed harder.
This was the end.
The end.
A part of him insisted that he not be so distraught, for technically, Suzaku was the antagonist in this warfare. The brunette opposed the beliefs and actions of Zero, or at least, that was what he was supposed to do, in spite of the romance they had both partaken in. Why, if he were so coldhearted, Lelouch would not be frowning at the brunette's murder; no, if he were such a person, he would be smiling, smirking at how his adversary had been trounced. He would be cheering, now that conquest – victory – was now a step closer.
And yes, perhaps such was true.
Perhaps his goals were a little closer.
And that was what he wanted.
But, no.
Not like this.
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L'Adore.
